


Fractures

by Grimalkenkid



Series: Fire Emblem Kinktober 2019 [2]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Broken Bones, Crying, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, I've got no clue how to tag this, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Masochism, Post-Time Skip, Soft Felix Hugo Fraldarius, Spoilers, it's consensual... whatever it is
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-23 16:26:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,757
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21084326
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Grimalkenkid/pseuds/Grimalkenkid
Summary: Felix has trouble processing emotions, Ingrid just wants to help, and both of them are stubborn as mules.(Kinktober 2k19, day 22, "Crying")





	Fractures

**Author's Note:**

> This fic kinda... morphed as I was writing it. I'm still considering it as a fill for Kinktober, but no sex actually happens.

“Harder.”

Ingrid paused, her hand raised in preparation of another strike. She was aware of how much Felix liked pain, but she was already using as much force as she dared. The swordsman’s cheeks were starting to turn red, and yet the defiance in his eyes was as strong as ever.

“If I go any harder, then I risk hurting you for real,” Ingrid said softly.

Felix just huffed. “I can take it.”

_ I don’t doubt it, _ the lady-knight thought, pulling back even further to deliver another, more vicious strike.  _ But why would you ask for that in the first place? _

She would oblige him, though. Ingrid struck him again, putting all her strength into a single slap across his face. Felix grunted and fisted his hands in the sheets. The lady-knight hoped that would be it. Surely,  _ that _ would be enough to satisfy his lust for pain, so they could shift into the more tender lovemaking that usually followed.

Felix turned his head back to meet her gaze, and Ingrid’s heart dropped. His eyes hadn’t softened at all.

“ _ Harder. _ ”

“I can’t,” Ingrid protested, her voice far more strained than she intended. This wasn’t her Felix; this Felix didn’t even seem to be looking at her, as if his sight were lingering on the far off distance. “Felix, why…?”

The swordsman blinked, then said, “You have fists. Use them.”

Ingrid immediately tensed. When they first took to each other’s beds, the lady-knight had made it abundantly clear that she would never raise a fist at him. If he wanted to be hit, then it would be with an open palm or not at all. For him to voice such a request… something wasn’t right.

“No,” she said, resting her hands on his scarred chest. “This is where I draw the line. You’re nearly crying as is.”

“So? If I cry, then that’s my problem. Not yours.”

Ingrid just blinked dumbly. “Not… my problem?” Slowly, her confusion turned to anger, and she glared daggers at the man beneath her. “How is that not my problem? Felix, I love you. Why would I push you to tears? Why would I want to?!”

The swordsman hid his eyes behind his arm and let out a frustrated groan. When he didn’t follow up with anything, Ingrid sighed and got off of him, sliding off the bed to search for her discarded tunic. She heard him shifting behind her but refused to look back.

“Ingrid,” Felix practically growled. “Get back up here.”

The lady-knight merely continued putting her clothes back on. Felix was stubborn, but so was she. If he refused to give a reason for his unreasonable requests — no, his  _ demands _ — then she simply wouldn’t listen. The swordsman would tell her what was wrong when he damn well felt like it, but Ingrid didn’t have to acknowledge him until he did.

“Ingrid…” His voice held an edge of desperation, as if more words were resting on the tip of his tongue. At the same time, Ingrid felt a hand lightly grasp her wrist. She was about to yank herself out of his grip when he added, softly, “I need to feel… something…”

The lady-knight hazarded a glance over her shoulder. Felix was still on the bed, resting on his haunches, but his choppy hair fell about his face like a curtain. He kept his head bowed and his shoulders slumped, eyes cast to the floor, though it hardly looked like he saw it. Ingrid couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him so… defeated.

She paused, waiting for him to explain. It seemed like an eternity before Felix spoke again.

“My father’s dead,” he said bluntly, as if discussing the weather, “and I don’t feel anything. That damn  _ boar _ shed more tears for him than I did.”

“Felix…”

Ingrid relented and rejoined him on the sheets, brushing aside his unruly, midnight blue locks and cupping his reddening cheeks. He drew in a sharp breath but leaned into the affection. It wasn’t much, and yet, to Ingrid, it was a glimpse into a side he so rarely showed. The part he kept hidden behind back-handed compliments and harsh words, the part that openly yearned for kindness and love.

Felix laid a hand over hers and sighed heavily. “What’s wrong with me?”

“Nothing,” she said before her mind could even process the words. “You’re… I think feeling numb is something a lot of people feel.”

“I… don’t want to feel numb…” the swordsman mumbled, scooting towards his lover until he could comfortably rest his head on her shoulder. “... please…”

Ingrid wrapped her arms around him, pulling him close. The romantic part of her mused how they must’ve looked like a couple from a tale of chivalry: the knight comforting a wounded noble after rescuing them from a terrible fate. But they weren’t. She was Ingrid Brandl Galatea, and he was Felix Hugo Fraldarius. They were comrades. They were friends. They were lovers.

And whatever Felix was searching for, Ingrid wanted to help him find it.

“Will hurting you really help?” she tentatively asked, carding her fingers in his hair to let him know she only questioned out of love. “What if I go too far?”

“You won’t,” the swordsman replied, not a single shred of doubt in his voice. But, after a short pause, he added, “I have an extra elixir. In the pouch by my swords.”

Ingrid reluctantly disentangled herself from Felix and retrieved the small vial from his things. Elixirs were particularly potent healing concoctions, capable of repairing even broken bones. Byleth made sure that everyone in the army was well-stocked with them, but the professor’s tactics rendered them unnecessary, as hardly anyone got injured enough to need one.

“Just in case,” the lady-knight said to herself. She placed the elixir on the side table and rejoined Felix once again, pressing her lips to his in a gentle kiss. “How… how do you want to be hurt? I’d rather not drag this out, if possible.”

“How…?” the swordsman parroted. He closed his eyes and let out a deep breath, and for a moment, he looked like he did when in the middle of training. Focused and calm. Like a bow, strung but at rest, ready at a moment’s notice. “Twist my arm until something gives. That should be enough.” Opening his eyes, Felix gave a small nod.

Ingrid nodded in return and shifted behind him. He offered no resistance as she pushed him down onto his belly and straddled his back, rubbing little circles over his shoulders. When he maneuvered his left arm behind himself, Ingrid laced their fingers together, giving him a final, reassuring squeeze. “If you want to stop, tell me immediately, okay?”

“Of course,” Felix said into a pillow. “And… thank you.”

Despite her desire to get this done quickly, the lady-knight went slow, rotating his forearm and pulling it towards his head. Felix hissed as the pressure increased, but Ingrid kept going. The swordsman would make it very, very obvious when he wanted to stop. When she couldn’t twist any further, when Felix’s breaths came short and fast, Ingrid pressed down, letting her weight do what her muscles refused.

Something cracked.

Ingrid never heard Felix scream as loudly as he did then. Even when he was injured in combat, he rarely uttered more than a grunt or gasp. But this scream was new; she wondered if this was merely a pain he was unused to or if there was more behind it. Whatever it was, the sound broke her heart, and she immediately let go. The swordsman’s agonized cry softened into uncontrollable sobs, his body shaking with every breath. Ever so slowly, Ingrid rolled him over -- careful of his now injured arm -- and cradled him against her chest.

Tears rolled freely down his cheeks as he curled into the lady-knight’s arms. She did nothing to silence his sobs; she could sense how much Felix needed to simply feel his own pain… his own sorrow. So, she gently ran her fingers through his hair and waited.

Several minutes passed before either of them spoke.

“I didn’t… didn’t even get to say… goodbye…” Felix croaked through the last of his tears. “He was gone before I got there…” He weakly clutched at Ingrid’s shirt as another round of sobs came over him. “Why…? Why’d he have to die for… for the  _ boar _ ? Did he think… did he think I didn’t need him…?”

Ingrid pressed a kiss to his head. “I don’t know,” she whispered, on the verge of tears herself. “But I think that, if you had been the one in danger, your father wouldn’t hesitate to do the same for you.”

“But… I… I don’t want anyone to… to die for me. Ingrid…” He looked up, eyes betraying how vulnerable he must’ve felt. “Promise me… Promise me you won’t die for anyone… even me… even Dimitri…”

The lady-knight was shocked, moreso by Felix’s use of the prince’s actual name than anything else. She rested her forehead against his and sighed. “You know I can’t promise that,” she said softly. “But I swear this: I will do everything in my power to  _ live _ for you. I will never be careless with my life, because, as far as I’m concerned, half of it belongs to you.”

“Fool…” Felix huffed, though the word lacked its usual bite. “And I’m the bigger fool for loving you anyway.” He let out a heavy sigh and pulled her into a deep kiss.

Ingrid could taste the tears on his lips, salty and bitter with years of regret. She wondered just how long he’d been holding back, letting sorrow upon regret upon pain build and build until this moment. As the kiss deepened further, the lady-knight pulled him closer, wanting to feel his body against hers. But she froze when Felix let out a tiny whimper of pain.

“I think you should probably drink that elixir now,” she said, pulling away just enough to snatch the vial off the side table. “I might have broken something.”

“Yes. Yes, you did.” Felix accepted the potion and downed it in one gulp. As the concoction worked its magic, knitting his hurt flesh and bone back together, he sighed, “Sorry I turned this into… whatever this is.”

“Don’t be,” Ingrid said, wrapping her arms around him and slowly falling back against the pillows. “You needed this. Besides, we can have sex later. Maybe tonight, if that isn’t too soon?”

Felix smiled and snuggled up against her chest. “Tonight.”

**Author's Note:**

> As always, comments and critiques are welcome and appreciated!


End file.
